


Don't Mention Pink

by Sturzkampf



Category: Widdershins (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 11:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3248804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sturzkampf/pseuds/Sturzkampf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thackerey & Company tackle a dangerous insane malform.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Mention Pink

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This is story is set soon after the end of ‘Green Eyed Monster’ and contains significant spoilers.

_From the memoirs of Professor Sir Benjamin Thackerey, FRSW, DMg, KCMG_

When your business is the desummoning of dangerous malforms you may expect peril to lurk around every corner. Even in the most mundane of environments the cunning malform may be lying in wait ready to pounce on the unwary. Fortunately I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox so nothing catches me by surprise. A typical example of the unexpected drama we have to deal with on a daily basis occurred soon after we had foiled the invidious plans of Herr Dominic Voss.

Wolfe was already cooking breakfast in the kitchen as I came downstairs that morning. O’Malley of course was still upstairs in bed, so I could relax and let my guard down just a little. I helped Wolfe by arranging his cooking utensils in a more orderly and logical fashion, for which I am sure he was grateful really, despite what he said at the time. Satisfied that he could manage without me I went through into the main room that serves as our combined office and parlour, only to be confronted by the most appalling scene of chaos. The room had been in perfect order when I went up to bed, but now the carefully-aligned newspapers on the table were pointing at random angles, the waste-paper basket that had been positioned exactly half-way between the two arm chairs was over by the coal scuttle, the pen on my desk was at an absurd angle to the blotter and the perfectly placed cushions looked as though someone – or something - had piled them together to use as a nest.

Ever since Wolfe and O’Malley have shared the premises of my malform removal company with me it has of course been difficult to keep things as tidy as I would like. Wolfe does his best, but he simply doesn’t have an eye for order and neatness. Frankly, I am very disappointed; you would expect a Prussian, and an ex-army man at that, to be more disciplined and methodical, but then Wolfe is by no means a typical Prussian. O’Malley on the other hand does his worst. He has absolutely no regard for the feelings of others and not only makes no effort to tidy up after himself but also deliberately makes the place untidy just to frustrate and upset me. It must be what it is like to have to care for a wilful, backward and malicious child. I try to be reasonable because the business needs his special talents, but sometimes when he casually and deliberately undoes an hour of my hard work and I have to start all over again he makes me feel like weeping.

Now to make things worse, a malform has attached itself to us, or at least has attached itself to O'Malley, as a result of the recent imbroglio involving two Deadly Sins, an underachieving Prussian, Captain Nicola Barber, an empty beer barrel and a large quantity of gunpowder. It had proved slightly useful, and indeed we were even able to persuade it to help prevent the summoning of the Deadly Sin of Wrath, the destruction of a fine building and, incidentally, the death of about fifty people. Of course, Thackerey & Company are in the business of dispelling malforms and these unfortunate anomalies are usually all too happy to be dispelled, unless they are too enraged or insane to understand that we are there to help them. For some reason, this particular malform seems to be quite happy in its ugly and misshapen body and has not only resisted all attempts to desummon it, but has even started following O’Malley around, despite my best efforts to drive it away. The creature, which O'Malley has dubbed 'The Purple Hippo of Happiness' is boisterous, disruptive and can be guaranteed to upset even the neatest and best regulated room in minutes. I suspect O'Malley only encourages it in order to annoy me.

Wolfe came in from the kitchen when he heard my frustrated sigh.

“Oh dear,” he said, taking in the rampant disorder. “I fear that Mal’s little b*ggerup has paid us another visit, yes?” I hardly needed him to tell me that. As always, he tried to look on the bright side of things. “Come, come, friend Ben, surely this is not so bad,” he said in his calm way as he tried to tidy up, as usual making things much worse. How could the man not see that he had left the waste-paper basket at least an inch too far to the left, completely disrupting the entire symmetry of the room?

“I cannot think why he encourages the wretched thing,” I grumbled as I carefully adjusted the basket correctly.

“It will make Mal very unhappy if you desummon it or send it away. I believe it gives him comfort. He says it is full of life and energy and good humour, like a puppy. Everyone likes puppies do they not?”

“I most certainly do not!” I exclaimed. “They are not house-trained! And they slobber! And chew everything! Disgusting creatures!”

“But these things are not a problem with a b*ggerup. The Purple Hippo of Happiness has all the good points of a puppy without any of the frustrating problems, no? You have seen it and talked with it yourself, when we had the little unpleasantness with Dominic.”

“Oh well, if it keeps O’Malley happy then who am I to send it away?” I retorted bitterly. “After all I have nothing better to do with my life than cleaning up after the pair of them!” I caught the look in Wolfe's eye. Somehow, it is impossible to stay angry for long when you are around him. “All right. Yes, it was useful, although in my opinion it was undisciplined, uncontrolled and messy, so a perfect match for O’Malley really. Still, naming it was a mistake, and why O’Malley insists on calling it the Purple Hippo of Happiness escapes me, because when I saw it, it was quite obviously pink.”

Without warning the waste-paper basket flew up into the air and came down over my head. Something started to push it over my ears. I had the distinct impression that some small but rather heavy creature was standing on top, jumping up and down. I shouted to Wolfe for assistance, but before he could get to me as I blundered around the room my assailant took a flying leap from my head, landed by my feet and tripped me up. As I tried to stand it began bouncing on my stomach.

“It's an insane malform!” I screamed. “Wolfe! Get it off me!”

The malform left me alone as Wolfe approached and I could hear his ineffectual efforts to catch the vicious invisible abomination as I struggled to remove the waste-paper basket. There was the all-too-familiar sound of overturning furniture and the dispiriting but distinctive ‘krak’ of yet another ink bottle smashing all over the floor.

“Alas, I cannot catch it!” called Wolfe. “It is too fast and I cannot see it. I will fetch Mal to talk to it! Try and keep it distracted!”

“What do you mean, distract it?!” I shouted in horror, but I could already hear him running up the stairs. I finally managed to free myself from the waste-paper basket, at which point there was a sudden rush of air as something landed on my shoulders and tried to use my ears to twist my head off. I scrambled to free myself from my attacker, managed to get hold of ‘something’ with an unpleasant spongy texture and drag it off my head. It took my collar and cravat with it. As I held on, it began to slap me around the face with vigour, knocking my glasses askew. I tried to stuff it into the waste-paper basket but it managed to wriggle free and leapt on to the armchair from where it began to pelt me with cushions. Before the situation could turn really ugly the stench of stale cheap tobacco heralded the arrival of O'Malley, as usual smoking one of his disgusting roll-ups. He looked as though he had just got out of bed. Then again, he always looks as though he has just got out of bed.

“Keep back!” I warned him. “This is one of the dangerously insane ones!” He rolled his eyes in exasperation and sauntered across the room as though he had not a care in the world. To my horror he bent down, bringing his unguarded face down to the level of the dangerous monstrosity that stalked the room. He seemed to be listening. Then he opened his arms and appeared to pick something up and hug it. He made little 'there-there-hush' noises as though he were comforting a small distressed child. He gave me a stern look.

“Now, what ye want to be goin' an' makin' the poor little fella cry an’ upsettin' him like that for?” he asked me accusingly.

“Me upsetting him?! Poor little fellow?! That malform just tried to kill me! Hold it down while I get out the desummoning mat!”

“No, he ain't going nowhere and we won't be needin' no fancy spell mats neither. First, you're goin' to apologise to him.”

“What?”

“Callin' him rude names an' everthin'. It's not nice and ye the one always lecturin' me about manners and such.”

“Rude names? When am I ever rude to anyone?”

“Ye tellin' me ye didn't call me little friend here,” he indicated the invisible space in his arms, “a bad word? Ye didn't call him... pink?” He dropped his voice and looked down. “There, there, don' go gettin' all upset, he din' mean it really.”

“Wait, are you telling me that this malform is your Purple Hippo of Happiness and it is doing all this because I said it was pink?”

“Yea, that's about it. How would ye like it if people went around callin' you pink? He thinks it's sort of cissy-like. Kinda insultin', ye know?”

“But of course it's...” I began, but Wolfe interrupted.

“Mal, I am positive that Ben meant no insult or harm to our little comrade in arms and any upset or offence he may have caused was clearly unintentional. Now that he realises that what he said was wrong I am sure that he will make a full and grovelling apology so that we can all be friends again.”

I could not believe this. “What?! Apologise to a malform!? Me?!” I would have said more, but Wolfe picked up the mangled waste-paper basket and pointed to it, raising his eyebrows to pose the unspoken question. I saw his point.

“Yes, well, as I have said on many occasions it is most important to be polite and of course in this modern age I would never dream of making a comment regarding the colour of someone's skin, no matter how innocent, that they might deem to be offensive.” Feeling slightly ridiculous, I turned to the space where I thought the malform in O'Malley's arms might be and addressed it as though it were a real person, hoping I was talking to the right end.

“Mr Purple Hippo, please accept my absolute and unreserved apology for any offence my remarks may have caused you. I can assure you that it was not my intention to cause distress and no insult was intended.” O'Malley struggled to hold the malform and then it was obvious that it had leaped free because something began jumping up and down on the best armchair and throwing the cushions around. I sighed. At least it wasn't trying to attack me anymore.

“Yea, that should do it.” O'Malley reassured me, “He's happy again.”

“Prima,” exclaimed Wolfe, “I do not think that that one can stay upset for long.”

“I just hope he calms down soon so I can start tidying up this shambles,” I sighed in resignation.

“Let him be happy for a little while,” Wolfe replied. “You can always tidy up after you have eaten the nutritious breakfast that I have made for us. Like all puppies, soon the Purple Hippo of Happiness will be tired and then it will sleep.”

“That’s all very well, but it is still very important to get the facts correct,” I explained. “When I saw this malform it certainly looked pink to me.” There was a sudden commotion and the sound of ripping cloth around my ankles. When I looked down, both my trouser legs below the knees had been ripped to shreds. They were my second-best pair too. “However,” I continued smoothly, “the light at the time was very poor, so it is quite clear to me that the Hippo of Happiness is, in fact, Purple.” O’Malley grinned at something only he could see and the occasional table flexed alarmingly as though some small creature was bouncing on it in delight. Was it my imagination, or did I hear the faint sound of something shouting ‘Yaaaay!!’?

 

_Editor's note: for a rather melodramatic populist account of the 'Dominic Voss' incident mentioned in this narrative, see 'Green Eyed Monster', K. Ashwin, Kickstarter Publications. For a completely unreadable account, see ‘The Influence of the Widdershins Deadly Sin Crisis (1832-1837) on the emergence of Working Class Consciousness and the Decline of the Bourgeoisie in the South Glamorgan Lace Industry’, P. Fulwood, Widdershins University Press._

**Author's Note:**

> Several readers of Widdershins commented that the Purple Hippo of Happiness appears to be pink. 
> 
> http://www.widdershinscomic.com/wdshn/december-30th-2014/
> 
> This extract from Professor Thackerey’s memoirs makes it clear that the malform in question is quite definitely purple.


End file.
